


In Corde Meo

by Gadhar



Category: The Expendables (Movies)
Genre: Drabble, M/M, prompts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-19 10:46:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2385569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gadhar/pseuds/Gadhar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompts from the<a href="http://30dayotpchallenge.deviantart.com/journal/30-Day-OTP-Challenge-LIST-325248585">30 Day OTP Challenge List.</a></p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Day 1: Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts from the[30 Day OTP Challenge List.](http://30dayotpchallenge.deviantart.com/journal/30-Day-OTP-Challenge-LIST-325248585)

It still feels the same. Rough in the center, smooth on the outside, a perfect outline of a hilt. His knuckles are still taut under the skin, bony. But the skin between is soft, not yet scarred except for the line between the ring and middle. A knife fight, long ago. 

Barney still remembers that. The ease with which Lee had put himself between Barney and a blade, skin slicing as he caught the knife with a wound, leaving Barney free to pop a few in the attacker. 

It was simple mechanics, a moving of bodies and they were perfectly in sync. There was injury but it remains a postmark of teamwork, something done without thinking. 

Barney still remembers the way Lee's hands had first felt, wrapped in his own. 

They're smaller, but no less strong. If Barney's truthful, he'd say there's more strength in one of Lee's fingers than in either of his own hands. There's more history despite his own long years. 

They still feel the same. Nothing has changed. The warmth is still there, the strength, the softness, the life. 

He still remembers the first few times they joined hands. Lee's serious face as he would snatch his away, a 'that's gay' floating from his mouth. Barney still remembers the hurt before he understood. 

It wasn't about sexuality. It had been about happiness and Lee's belief he deserved none. 

Barney still remembers the long hours spent convincing Lee otherwise. 

And he remembers the times after, the 'that's gay' still slipping out with a smile. Because it was. In the traditional sense. It was a happy thing. 

Lee's hands are somehow very much Barney's own. Thrumming with his life, holding his heart, controlling his happiness. 

And even now, with the slow beep of the monitor and the lack of everything- the warmth, the strength, the softness...the life- without everything Barney still wouldn't choose to be anywhere else. 

Lee's hands gave him everything. He prays he gets a chance to give back. 

Hands joined until the end. 


	2. Day 2: Cuddling Somewhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> May edit this one later. Don't know. Not sure what it is with me and grocery stores or why they're cuddling here. *shrugs*
> 
> Guess who has to stop writing and belting out Whitesnake to do their homework now? Gah, sad face. :(

"This is highly inappropriate."

"I didn't know there was an appropriate thing to do during kidnapping situations."

"There is. And this is not it."

"Are you complaining?" Barney asks and he even moves away, no intention of actually leaving, but, it's enough.

 _"No._ Screw you."

"You're mean, you know that?"

"I've been shot. I have a right."

"That's highly debatable. Honestly, you should probably lose that attitude by the time they come back."

"What are they gonna do? Shoot me _again?_ "

"If I'm lucky. Otherwise they'll probably shoot me." 

"And you say I'm mean." Lee yawns and slips lower into Barney's grasp, his head rolling to the side.

"Hey, _hey_. Don't go to sleep on me."

"I'm not," Lee mumbles and he raises his head only for it fall back against Barney's chest again. 

"You have got some pointy-ass cheekbones. Jesus." The only reason Barney isn't rubbing at his chest is because Lee's head is there, bones digging into his skin. "How come you never let me hold you like this anywhere else?"

"Why do you always try to hold me like this when we're in the _grocery store?"_ Lee's voice is slurred, soft but still strong. 

Barney wonders how long he'll stay awake.

"Well if the cashiers didn't stare at you like a _piece of meat_. Maybe I wouldn't feel the need to stake my claim."

"You're such a girl."

"You know, I actually don't resent that."

"What?"

"Nevermind."

"I'm the one who got shot and shouldn't be making sense. Stop messing up the rules."

"There's rules to getting shot?"

"Yeah. You know? Rule number one, make sure you live. Number two, kill the fucker that shot you. Number three, if number two cannot be completed, then shoot the fucker who shot you. Number four, if number one cannot be completed move on to number two and still take the fucker down with you."

"I'm not so sure those are rules so much as pre-determined facts that must be proven true time and time again."

"Call it what you want."

"Are there any other rules?"

Lee mumbles something again, too quiet for Barney to hear and then he licks his lips. He's getting paler. "Yeah, one."

"And what's that?"

"Fuck the ever living life out of your lover for the next freaking week after recovering from a bullet wound. Or while recovering. They say sex is healthy."

Barney chokes back a laugh, pulling Lee tighter against him. "Sounds like we're gonna be busy for awhile."

"Yes. Extremely. You have no idea. Literally. Literally no idea."

Barney noses at Lee's hair when the building shakes around them, dust falling from the corners. Lee flinches a little when the second explosion goes and Barney gives him a brief squeeze. 

Lee doesn't even look at him, his eyes slipping close.

But Barney keeps on talking, occasionally shaking Lee to keep him awake as gunfire explodes above them. There's a distinct screaming that starts up that is a telltale sign of an amputation by grenade. "I think that's the boys. I hope Gunner didn't bring the cat, again."


	3. Day 3: Watching A Movie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watching a movie. Or trying to. And cheerios.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was hoping to get this up earlier today but _someone_ was on the computer all day and, of course, the one time I need to finish a fic that's only on the laptop is the one time the laptop is being used by someone else. Someone who was not me, by the way, because I would have been in the black hole called YouTube if it was. Also, am I the only one who has a a hard time spelling Caesar? Like. Really.
> 
> I like Gary Oldman. Just throwing that out there. For reasons.
> 
> I own nothing and this is proof that I am sleep deprived.

“You ever notice Gary Oldman’s got a certain amount of sexiness to him?”

Barney hits pause on the remote in favor of chucking it at Lee’s _fucking head._ “Can we not just watch the film? Do you have to comment on every little thing?”

“I’m not commenting on every little thing. I said one-”

“Four.”

“-four things. Four. That’s not a lot. And it’s certainly not every little thing.” 

“It just started. _Four minutes ago._ ”

“And?”

“ _And?_ And why is it whenever you're watching a movie and I say one thing, _one thing,_ you kick me out. But now, you can just blab all you want.”

“Because, _you_ talk and talk. I comment. _Totally different._ ”

Barney will give him that. They are different. But that doesn't mean what he does is any different than what Lee does. He should have known Lee would make this difficult. Lee likes to make everything difficult. 

_If it’s not a challenge, it’s not fun._

It’s also not difficult. And Barney rather have things be simple.

“So?” Lee looks up at him expectantly.

“So what?”

Lee throws a piece of popcorn at his face. It hits him squarely in the nose before falling to his chest. “Gary Oldman. Sexiness.”

Barney shrugs, popping the piece of corn into his mouth.There’s a weird bite to it that he ignores in favor of answering Lee’s questioning stare. “He’s alright. I guess.”

“You guess? Why is it your gayness only extends to me? Why can’t you just simply look at another human being and admit they look good? Really Barney, no one is going to judge you.”

Barney scoffs because, ain't that a helluva a lie? _Everybody_ is judging. “Maybe because I _am_ only gay for you. Maybe my bisexualness extends only to women and a certain Englishman whose feet smell like rotten eggs.”

Lee kicks at his face with one such foot. Purposely angling his toes to poke Barney’s eye out. “That’s impossible. I think you’re just insecure. How hard is it to look at someone else and go ‘Oh, you look good today.’ Honestly, it doesn't mean you have to be attracted to them.”

“Actually, sexiness requires a certain amount of sexual attrac-”

“Well that certainly doesn't mean you have to fuck him, now does it?”

“Why do I get the feeling someone pissed in your cheerios?”

“Why are you obsessed with my cheerios?”

“I feel like we’re not talking about actual cheerios anymore.”

“Nope. We’re talking about Gary Oldman’s cheerios.”

Part of Barney wants to go _‘Dear God’,_ and leave. The other part of him would really like the finish this film but he has a feeling if he starts it, Lee’s going to interrupt again. 

Barney catches the next piece of popcorn Lee throws at him (only one of the many pieces that have collided with his face during this conversation). Again he gets that strange bite that reminds him vaguely of-

“Is this spiked popcorn?”

Lee grins like a madman, laughing as he shoves a handful into his mouth.

“I can’t believe it, you’re drunk off of popcorn. Drunk.”

“Meh, more like buzzed.” Lee waves a hand, popping the last piece of corn into his mouth and Barney is amazed at how fast Lee packed that gigantic bowl away. But it does explain why Lee’s been acting a little off all night.

“And why did we spike the popcorn?”

“Well, it was actually supposed to go to Caesar but Galgo must’ve switched up the bowls.”

“And why are we dosing Caesar?”

“I told Galgo it was a tradition for newbies. He seemed eager enough after that.”

“You’re cruel. And daft. You know that? Cruel and daft.”

“It gets Galgo away from you though, doesn't it?”

Barney has to give him that. Galgo has been awfully octopus-like lately. Sticking to Barney’s side and following him around. It’s not a huge deal, honestly, but sometimes Barney just wants to be alone. Or with Lee. Or alone with Lee.

“We were never going to watch this movie, were we?”

“Nope.” Lee grins again and it’s more boyish this time, mischievous. 

And as he crawls across the sofa, Barney can say he’s only mildly disappointed that they’re not going to finish the film.


	4. Day 4: On a Date

Lee can feel Barney pressed up against him. Barney’s purple silk coat dragging on the skin of his bare shoulders, as Barney’s hands, large and firm, cover his on the gun. 

The trigger goes and another shot runs down the firing lane, smacking into some paper target on the other end. Lee hasn't even been looking at the targets, rather staring at Barney’s hands, or focusing on the feel of Barney's stomach flexing against his back, or of the strong chest cushioning his shoulders.

He probably shouldn't have taken off his jacket. Or the shirt. Definitely not the shirt. But it's easier to shoot in the tank-top that was underneath it all. Somehow it's ended up being harder though.

Barney takes the gun, moves away to grab another one and Lee tries to shake off the tingling flush that’s taking over his skin. 

And then Barney’s back in place, behind him with hands over his as they go through reloading the new gun. It’s one of Barney’s, the silver plating of the grip surprisingly warm. 

“I can shoot a gun you know. And load one.” Lee says, trying to cover up the shifting of his whole body as that tingling sensation builds up again, starting at the point between his shoulder blades where Barney's dog tags are digging in. 

“But you ain't as fast as me.”

“Not with a gun, no.” But with a blade? He might even be faster.

“So, shut up and let me show you a few tricks.” And Barney says that like it doesn't mean anything. But since they got here, Barney’s been close by, so close Lee can feel the heat of his skin, and everything Barney does seems to have some double meaning to it that has Lee thinking of something completely different than firing guns.

Barney goes through the motions, at normal speed and then again, slower. “Most people just jam it in, they don’t slide it in. Sliding doesn't mean slow, it just means you’re going in at the right angle. Holding it right.”

Barney's hand moves Lee’s onto the clip, curls his fingers around it a little. “See, you gotta keep a loose grip, you’re not groping the thing, caress it.” 

Lee squirms, biting back the noise that’s trying to climb it’s way out of his throat. 

“Treat it like a lover. Stroke it, caress it, feel it beneath your fingers.”

Lee gets an image of large hands on his hips, his stomach; long scarred fingers working their way down.

“Feel the warmth and the way it moves. If you do it right, if you’re attentive, you can feel the way it moves on the inside, the way the mechanics lock.” Barney's mouth is right at his ear, lips teasing the tip, as hot breath ghost around his ear. 

It makes his skin feel hot, goosebumps popping up as that tingling feeling increases. When Barney starts speaking again, something about steady and smooth, all Lee can think about is how long Barney would be steady and smooth if they were both considerably less clothed right now with him on that table and Barney over him. 

Lee shakes his head and jerks away from Barney, shaking out his arms and legs and trying to breathe. “Stop doing _that_.” He hisses. “This is date night, not drive Lee up a fucking wall with your damn sexual innuendos night.”

Barney’s laughing at him, head tilted as he smirks. “I thought they were the same thing”

“Well they’re not. Date night is dinner and a movie and slow love making. What you’re doing is- it’s freaking fuck me senseless stuff.” He’s breathless, uncomfortable, and he knows Barney's enjoying every minute of it. Winding him up.

“Well, we were going to go to dinner, don’t worry,” Barney says and he grabs Lee, pulls him close and Lee can feel his heart swelling, air leaving him again as Barney’s lips are barely a paper-width away from his.

But then Barney turns his head, presses a kiss to Lee’s cheek instead, and then another right below his ear before he starts trailing kisses down Lee’s neck.

“I’m not-” Lee loses the thought with a hitch of his breath but regains it in the brief break before Barney’s lips touch him again. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was late guys. I know. Sorry. Gonna try to get back on track today.  
> I actually wrote a different one for today's prompt, but it sparked the idea for this one and I like this one better.
> 
> "Why is Rocky wearing a purple coat?" This. This is [why.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zbz5cRXS2Mk%22)
> 
> Me owns nothing.


	5. Day 5: Kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to say I've been iffy at best for the other chapters in this thing, aside from number 4, which I love, but I definitely like this addition a lot. I'm just letting you know I'm proud, okay? For a drabble of mine, it is pretty kickass.
> 
> And I also somehow managed to not use ny italics- that's a bid deal for me. 
> 
> Anyway, me owns nothing and cue the mushy sappy Barney.

Kissing Lee was simultaneously the best and worst thing he ever did. 

Best because it led to more kisses, more talks, more jokes, more love, more things to come home to, more reasons to keep going, and a lot more of other somethings. 

Worst because he's never had anything quite like it since. 

Lee has different kisses. And, where Barney's known everyone to have about three standard ones, Lee's got about...well, Barney doesn't really know. It's not that he counts. At least, he didn't used to. But after about the sixth different kiss that had him feeling light on his toes he started to keep track, or at least tried to. Just something to keep his brain occupied. 

The first kiss was messy. One of desperation. One would think it was under duress, a last chance, a goodbye. Something done under heavy gunfire or in the slick of blood. It would make sense for it to have had been, with their lifestyle. 

But no, it had been in the parking lot of Tool's bar. Broad daylight, happy sun and singing birds and a whole lot of other shit that puts Barney in the mind of Disney. 

There was no stress, no fear of any gunman with a bullet aiming for their heads. There was no thunder or pouring rain to highlight the dark passion of it. 

But it had been desperate and messy all the same. Teeth gnashing, tongues tangling, and the coppery taste of each other's blood mixed with hints of whisky and cigars. And of course, there was the weird twang that had a certain bitter-sweet quality to it that can only be explained as Lee himself. 

It was deep, long; it started with Lee lunging at him and finished with Lee pressed tight and heavy against him as he tried to keep them both standing, back against someone's parked truck. 

Barney has always regretted not cleaning off the hand-prints on the hood Lee had left. Must've been a weird thing to come back to for the owner. 

It was memorable and life changing and utterly stupid on Lee's part because it was the kind of kiss meant for drunken nights, meant to be forgotten, or meant to be done in those situations of blood and bullets. But Lee had did it then and it was like a switch between them had been flipped. Like they were always connected on some circuit but some cosmic or godly entity just forgot to turn them on. 

And like he said, Barney's never experienced anything like it since. 

That's not to say the later kisses were bad, quite the opposite really. They were equally memorable as well. Some even had a higher level of 'fireworks'. But he has never had that same first kiss again. 

Though, that's kind of the point, isn't it? 

Still, Lee has his different kisses. 

Even when they're fucking, straight up animalistic roughness of grunts and bruises, Lee will flip the tables. He'll kiss Barney at a tender pace with a moist mouth that's gentle and it will zap Barney's energy like that, instead making him think he's floating on a damn cloud. 

The kisses like that are utterly sweet, teetering on that edge between so sweet it's sick and so sweet you can't get enough. He's in the middle, with Lee's lips being a so sweet thing he wants more but doesn't think he can handle it at the same time. 

And then there's the sharp, biting kisses of dark passion. The ones that do happen when it's thundering and the rain is a solid patter against the windows. When the apartment's quiet, aside from the storm, and the lights are out aside from flickering candles and they're so close together they're linked; hearts beating in time, their breaths coming together. When Lee's a quivering mess beneath him, and he moves up into Barney with the same tender and care that Barney moves down against him, no desire to go any faster. Just the desire for the moment to last forever. 

There's so many kisses, even in the light of day. There's the chaste ones of laughter after a joke, the ones of brief farewells, and the ones he gets at the grocery store, celebratory ones of Lee's victory at getting Barney to buy some unnecessary thing they don't need and no one but Lee really wants. Barney even has a particular soft spot for the ones Lee gives him in the bar, the quick ones with only a flash of tongue, done only to make the other guys groan and complain. 

There are so many that Barney's considered making a list. Maybe even a rating system of stars to go right next to them. But then, eventually he'd run out of paper, out of patience, and he'd lose track because Lee is ever creating more infinitely pleasing kisses for every situation that arises. Even if it's a repeat, it's different. 

So, even if it's worse for never getting another first kiss like the one he shared with Lee, Barney thinks having the million of other kisses that followed and will continue to do so, are a pretty good consolation prize. 


	6. Day 6: Wearing Each Other's Clothes

"Just put it _on_ , Lee."

"I told you I'm f-fine." 

"Yes, completely fine, aside from that speech impediment you just developed. _Put it on._ " 

" _No._ " 

" _Lee_." 

" _Fine._ If it gets you to sh-shut up. Then f-fine." 

"Thank you." The only reason Barney doesn't throw his hands up in relieved exasperation is because he rather keeps his hands warm and in his pockets. Plus, the temptation to smack Lee upside the head might prove to be too much. It might knock some sense into the man though. What idiot comes to a meet-up in jeans and a T-Shirt when it's below 30 degrees out? 

Lee snorts at him and paces a few feet away, doing another walk-about around the junkyard. Barney thinks he's just doing it so he won't be seen curling up in the sweater. Tunneling for warmth. 

Lee's always hated the cold. Whereas Barney finds it to be a sometimes cool reprieve, something to dull the pain and numb the mind, or be a refreshing breeze against bare skin, Lee finds it to be some god awful enemy to be shot and murdered vehemently in blistering heat. 

He likes to act tough, but none of the pointed glares and grim lines of determination he forces onto his face can cover the way he shakes like a leaf. 

Lee comes back a minute or two later and he's not shaking anymore, his face isn't as pale and his body isn't rigid. He stands there, comfortably, with his hands in his pockets as he eyes a nearby car. 

Barney's sweater is loose on him, stretches a little too far on one shoulder, showing a large plane of pale skin, but otherwise, Lee fills out his clothes pretty well. Something Barney takes note of for future reference. 

xxx 

"What's the matter?" Lee asks because the look on Barney's face is quite unsettling. It's an odd time for Barney to get worried. Of course there's the usual possibility of dying they face every time they go out on a mission but, even though they've been captured, there's nothing particularly worrisome about this situation. 

Aside from that it may get a bit too nippy in here and maybe Barney doesn't want his nips to be freezing off. 

Barney frowns but doesn't say anything so Lee tilts his head toward their kidnappers, makes sure they're still occupied going through the massive collection of weapons that was found on their persons, and kicks out with his foot. 

It doesn't reach Barney of course, they're too far apart, but it gets his attention. 

"What's the matter?" Lee asks again. 

"These aren't mine." 

"What aren't yours?" 

"These," Barney says again, and he dips his chin down. 

Lee squints, trying to see whatever Barney's motioning at but it's a little hard to see with the shitty lighting. But then... 

"Are those my-" 

"Boxers? Yeah. The ones you left-" 

"Hanging on the doorknob last week. I remember. Why are you wearing my underwear?" 

"Why are you wearing mine?" 

"I'm not," Lee says looking down. "Oh wait. Red hearts? Really?" 

"They were a gift." 

"From who? Roger Murtaugh?" 

"Would you just- nevermind." 

"No, wait, I want to know why you have on my boxers." 

"Why are you wearing mine?" 

"Well- because- you're wearing mine I had to wear something, right?" 

"You could rock commando." 

Lee chokes, checking to see if Barney's joking. He's not. "And be in the situation we are now with my John Thomas out in the wind? No, thank you." 

"Hey, could be worse. I could be in that slim little green number you like to throw on sometimes." 

xxx 

Barney finds the apartment too quiet. He supposes it's always been like this, even before Lee, but somehow it's never really settled so heavily on him. 

Lee's quiet, but his presence is something that's well, _loud_. 

It's in the the way he quietly hums to himself while puttering about, the way he just fills a room by simply _being there_. 

The apartment is warmer and fuller when Lee's home. So when he's not, everything's a bit...overbearing. 

Barney had already spent a few hours at Tool's, and then a few more at the hangar but he had to come home soon. Sometime. It's not like the night before where he could just curl up on the cot inside the plane. Lee's suppose to come home tonight and Barney wants to be there when he does. 

But even knowing that, knowing Lee will be back soon and that he's probably fine because it was a simple mission, Barney can't shake off the emptiness. It clings at him like hands of cobwebs, dragging on the floor as he walks about, trying to keep busy. 

It doesn't help that the apartment doesn't smell like anything. Something else that Lee changed. 

Before, his place probably smelled like stale smoke and not much else. Maybe the occasional waft of Italian cooking, but even then, that was rare. There's little incentive to cook when it's only you, no matter how nice it makes your place smell. 

When Lee moved in though, smells were everywhere. Incenses burn, particularly in the room Lee has roped off as his meditation area. Food smells hang about in the kitchen, ever refreshed because Lee is always finding something new for Barney to cook- a vain effort to find something Barney _can't_ cook. 

The most important was Lee. The way he smelled wrapped up in Barney's arms at night is a smell that he finds particularly comforting. It's reassurance. It's safety. It's love. 

So maybe that's why he finds himself sitting on the floor in front of the closet, in Lee's meditation room. He's got an open box in front of him, searching through stacks of clothes that are a bit out of season. 

Lee has far more clothes than Barney ever thought possible, and they're mostly shirts and socks. 

Barney pulls out a leather jacket. Old and worn. There's a hole at the seam on one of the shoulders. It's actually one Barney's seen before, quite often in fact, when they're just hanging about the house or walking down to the corner market. It's one of Lee's favorites. 

Barney pulls it on, runs his fingers over the weathered cuffs. 

He's still sitting there when he hears the bike, the engine cutting off, and the quick steps to the door. 

When Lee comes in, Barney can hear him moving through the house. The duffel bag gets dropped next to the table, Lee loses his sunglasses on the end table by the couch, and then he's there, in the doorway. 

Lee sits down behind him after a moment, wrapping his arms around Barney's shoulders. 

"You miss me?" 

"Maybe a little." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're going to pretend like this is not late. I had a shitty day yesterday. *shrugs* As for today, I'm a little off. First, I was almost convinced it was 2015 and then AO3 almost convinced me duffel was not a word. So, brain not fully functioning. Also, this was intended to be a 4+1 or 5+1 or whatever the number is but, well, I sat down to write the rest about an hour ago and was then Rickroll'd by my brain and have since spent my time on YouTube rewatching the video.  
> Anyway, as an apology, the thing that inspired the ["little green number".](https://s-media-cache-ec0.pinimg.com/236x/1a/5f/a5/1a5fa5078c4feebc43000d204219e154.jpg)


	7. Day 7: Cosplaying

"I just want you to know, I'm _very_ uncomfortable with this."

"I'm aware." 

"Are you? I mean, are you really? Because this is the dumbest idea you've ever had." 

"This wasn't my idea. Besides, I think Drummer gave us the wrong coordinates." 

_"You think? Really?_ Whatever gave you that idea?" 

_"Lee."_

"No, Barney. Don't 'Lee' me. That guy just asked if we were cosplaying G.I. Joe. _G.I.Joe._ Do I look like a fucking cartoon to you?" 

Barney wants to say yes, especially right now. Particularly because Lee gets very animated when he's mad and right now, the way he's red in the face and his eyes are bugging out, he looks extremely cartoon-like. 

Of course, he understands the frustration. He doesn't like getting dropped in the middle of some weird-ass convention with elaborate costumes and other junk either. 

"Get me out of here Barney. Get me the fuck out of here and _now."_

"Relax Lee, it's just some kind of costume thing. Like Halloween." 

_"It's cosplayers at fucking Comiket, Barney. I am terrified and you better take my ass home."_


	8. Day 8: Shopping

“Are we done yet?” 

“No.” 

“So how much longer is this going to take?” 

“As long as it takes. It’s an art Barney, you don’t rush art.” 

“Painting is an art. Writing is an art. This is not art.” 

“Only someone simple-minded would think that,” Lee says, pulling another hangar off the rack and holding it against Barney’s shoulders. It’s black sequins and not quite Barney. 

“So, now I’m stupid?” 

“Your words not mine.” 

“I just don’t understand why we have to do this now. I’m expecting a package and I rather be at the house to get it before they leave it on the porch and Galgo takes it.” 

“Is he still doing that threat check thing?” 

_“Yes.”_

The way Barney says it makes Lee think he might be a tad annoyed. Personally, he finds Galgo amusing, provided he’s not chatting Lee’s ear off. 

“We have to do it now because we have the job in Paris in two days and if you think I’m showing up to fashion week dressed as some animal photographer, you’re dumb. And if you think I’m going with _you_ looking like some old pappy ready for chess in the courtyard, you’re insane. Besides, I have a running bet with Gunner and I will win.” 

Barney goes to say something but Lee sucks air in between his teeth and, cutting Barney off, presses a finger to Barney’s lips. “Shh. Just shush. Let me do this.” 

Lee pulls out another jacket, giving it a once over. “Hmm, blue suede. Not bad. Brings out your eyes.” 


	9. Day 9: Hanging Out With Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so, I actually wrote this a long time ago but when I saw the prompt, this is immediately what I thought of (I don't think that's a good thing). There was actually originally a lot of porn. Like pure-explicit-would-have-to-up-the-rating-on-this-thing porn. But I cut it out because, well...reasons. Anyway, this one was written in the middle of the night after a three day stretch of no sleep and a really bizarre conversation with a friend. It is not beta'd for shit.
> 
> I own nothing.

They’re all fucking drunk. That’s what Lee decides as he lays his chin on his hands, folded on the bar-top, and watches as someone pours him another drink.

He’s pretty sure they’re in Tool’s place but he could be wrong. And he’s pretty sure the guy who’s pouring him a drink is named Charlie. Or Carl. Or something with a ‘C’ but again, he’s not sure.

“Lee! Come on, we got another one lined up.” Gunner’s hand slams down on his shoulder and the Swede is hardly buzzed. Too many years of drinking Lee supposes.

But then Gunner leans a little too close, mouth by his ear and screams, at the top of his fucking lungs, “YOU’RE TOO PUSSY AIN'T YA?” before his tongue darts out and grazes the shell of his ear.

That’s how Lee knows Gunner is drunk, like the rest of them. Because Gunner doesn't usually lick people. And Lee knows _he’s_ drunk because he didn't just stick a knife through Gunner’s eye.

Drunk doesn't even seem an apt description anymore.

Lee stands up, downs his glass and turns, only leaning to the left only a little. “I ain't too pussy for this shit,” he mutters and lets Gunner shepherd him over to the table in the back where the rest of the Expendables are.

Trench is still downing kegs like a fucking psycho. Yin immediately attaches himself to Gunner the minute they get close and Caesar and Toll are wrapped around each other, passed the fuck out in the booth.

“And you called me pussy.”

Gunner laughs and shoves him, forward, nearly sending Lee headfirst into Barney who is laid back on the table, shirtless. 

Lee feels his mouth go dry and it becomes really hard to swallow.

“Too chicken, Christmas? Huh?” Gunner goads him from behind and Lee flips him off, turning back to Barney.

Barney looks ready to pass out himself, head lolling back as he throws back shots, half the liquor dribbling down his chin and face.

“This don’t look like Jell-o shots.”

“We uh- it’s not. Switched to Jaegermeister.” Barney slurs and he hands his shot glass up to Gunner who fills it and passes it back down.

Drunk is definitely not an apt description, they’re shit-faced. 

“Are you going down on him or what?” Gunner shouts and Lee chokes, his shoulders riding up to his ears as he pounds his chest. He hadn't planned on going down on anyone.

Barney starts laughing and Lee connects it in his head. _Oh, right, the body shots._

“Isn't this like...fraternity or something?” He mumbles but bends over, runs his tongue along the veins of Barney's arm, licking the salt off and smacking his lips. 

“Fraternization,” Gunner corrects.

Barney’s still underneath him as Lee grabs the shot glass off Barney’s chest with his lips, knocking it back with ease before Gunner grabs the glass and Lee goes down to get the lime from Barney’s mouth. 

The citrus and smoky taste of Barney is a lot more appealing than the Jagermeister and as fucked up as he is, Lee knows he spends far too much time connected to Barney by the lime, looking at his eyes. 

Lee pulls back, sucks the lime hard and tries not to think about it being Barney’s cock instead. Judging by the way Barney groans, Lee has a feeling he’s thinking the same thing.

Or trying not to think the same thing.

When he’s done at least 8 shots off of Barney, his tongue gliding across the sweat-slicked skin of Barney’s inner arms, his neck, and the flat plane of his stomach, Lee decides he’s not drunk, or pissed, or even shit-faced. He’s fucking bladdered-blotto-checked-out-and-done-see-you-in-forty-years _fucked up._

That’s what he keeps telling himself as he sucks the alcohol right from the tip between stomach and pelvis, of shot glass involved and Barney shivers underneath him. When he goes for the lime he doesn't take it, instead keeping it between his and Barney's lips as he sucks on it, occasionally letting his tongue flick out to lick the sides of the lime and touch the tip of his tongue to Barney’s lips. 

When he leans back, grinning, Barney looks considerably less drunk and that’s probably a good thing. At least someone is. Caesar and Toll are still asleep, Trench disappeared with his phone and Yin and Gunner left about two body shots ago.

So it’s just him and Barney and all Lee’s been thinking about is sucking cock and being fucked into oblivion.

He looks at Barney again and it’s electric, his skin tingles but he can’t move, and his eyes never leave Barney’s. 

Barney eventually stands up and manhandles him upstairs.

All Lee can think is how great it is he isn't so drunk he’d forget what’s about to come in the morning.


	10. Day 13: Eating Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yesterday's prompt was 'with animal ears' and today's is 'wearing kigurumis' and number twelve's is 'making out' but, fuck I don't know what to do with the first two and the third one seems too much like the kissing chapter I already did so bam, I skipped to the 13th day prompt 'eating ice cream'. So much for actually doing all thirty days. Hell, maybe I'll think of something later but, whatever.
> 
> Also, can someone write some damn Lee/Barney smut? Honest to the fucking god- see what I did there ;)- I need some smut and I don't care how explicit it is, someone just do it because I can't write sex to save my life right now. I can only read the same fics so many times. I mean, I can continue to read them but I want something different So, pretty please? Someone?
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing, not even Häagen-Dazs Gelato, but fuck, _that commercial._

Watching Lee eat is like watching a car wreck. It’s varying degrees of horrifying and disturbing, almost making you want to cringe and, in extreme cases, hurl, but you just can’t seem to look away. 

Or move in general because it’s Lee and of course there’s a strange undercurrent of lust that goes into it.

Not lust for Barney, no siree. Or lust for anything of the sexual nature. Rather lust for more food.

Barney never thought he’d be jealous of anything, much less food, but here he is, watching Lee take the personification of lust and gluttony to a whole other level that would qualify as too sinful for even the devil.

And the worst part, is it’s ice cream. _Just ice cream._ There’s nothing sexy to it like chocolate or strawberries. And ice cream itself is not a sexy food that comes to mind when Barney thinks about sexy food. Which he hasn't actually done but now he is and, nope, ice cream is not on there.

There’s some other things there. The closest thing to ice cream being that Häagen-Dazs Gelato stuff but that’s just because of the commercial. But no actual ice cream. 

And so, even though Lee’s eyes have that ‘fuck me, I’m horny’ look that’s apparently actually a ‘fuck me, I’m hungry’ look, Barney isn't feeling the same.

That’s not to say it’s not endearing. There’s something about it that reminds Barney of a puppy. A very hungry puppy with the floppy ears that’s skidding into its food bowl and sending the pieces flying. So yeah, it’s kind of cute. But the thing is-

The thing is, _he_ was horny.

But Lee’s not interested and it’s frustrating in so many ways to Barney.

“What’s your problem?” Lee asks as he sucks on a spoon with his tongue practically _undulating._

“You are the biggest fucking cockblocker _ever,_ ” Barney snaps as he stands up, heading for the door.

“...What?”


	11. Day 14: Genderswapped.....sortof

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, I'm not really a supporter of genderswap fiction, but uh, well- I took this prompt in a different direction. So, here we go.  
> *headdesk* I don't know what I'm doing.

“I think you look very pretty as a girl, especially with these guys.”

“That’s not really a compliment. I mean, these guys aren't exactly the Laverne Cox’s of the transgender world.”

“Oh, I don’t know. That one over there looks alright. Maybe you should chat her up for information.”

“Venus? Yeah, she can be a stunner. But I think she’s far too into that biker for me to be interrupting her.”

“And just how did you two meet?”

“We did a job together.” 

Lee doesn't say anymore so Barney doesn't ask. Though, if he’s honest, in his mind are images of Lee and this Venus lady doing things he doesn't want anybody to being doing with Lee.

“I said _job_ , old man. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“It wasn't in the gutter.” 

“Uh-huh, _right_. Zip me up will you? And tell me again. Why am I here?”

Barney slides the zipper up, hides it beneath a fold of of the sapphire color fabric and smooths his hand down Lee’s back, chasing away the wrinkles. “Because, Gunner can’t pull a dress off, Toll said ‘Hell no’, Caesar wouldn’t _fit_ in a dress, Yang’s on a job, the kids are doing their own thing, and Galgo’s....well Galgo.”

Lee hums, and turns to face Barney. “And you?”

“Me? Well, I can’t really hide my manliness. It’s too powerful to be hidden.”

“I’m _manly_ ,” Lee whines and Barney can note the Brit’s voice taking on a more feminine tone.

“Yes, but you’re also skilled enough to hide it. Besides, you like being in touch with your feminine side.”

“It’s not my feminine side, or my manly side. It’s me. As one person. I don’t have sides.”

“I think you have a lot of sides,” Barney says, but at the long-suffering look Lee gives him, he adds, “And angles and edges and curves. It makes for a very nice picture.”

Lee sighs, clicking his tongue as he pushes back a strand of long hair. “Alright, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“That’s all it ever was. And you're still very pretty. Now, who you thinking of as a target?”

Lee spins on the heels he's wearing and, well, Barney’s quite impressed. Either Lee’s very good at adapting or this is not the first time he’s worn heels. 

And as though Lee can read his mind he says, “I have never worn heels. I like boots and sneakers too much. And the occasional loafer. But I know a trick. My mum taught me. She said it’d come in handy. And well, look’s like my mum was right. Now, I’m thinking of talking to her, that one over there, she was in one of Drummer’s files. Now, be a sugar and get me a drink will you?” Lee’s eyelashes flutter as he looks at Barney, leaving a rouge colored lip-mark on Barney's cheek before turning away, strutting over to the female in question.

Barney can’t help but whistle and send up a thanks to Lee’s mum. Because those heels? They do _amazing_ things to Lee’s legs.


	12. Day 16: During their morning ritual(s)

Lee has a routine. He’s done it every day for years and he’s not ashamed to say it’s part of what keeps him sane. 

There’s a certain amount of security and comfort that comes with knowing that, no matter what crazy shit happens on the job, in most situations, providing he doesn’t die or get blown up, he’ll be coming home to do his routines.

And yes, there are multiple routines.

He has a method to everything. The precision with which he plans out what he does is as sharp as the precision used to plan out ambushes and complex assassinations.

There is a method to the setup of his fridge, a method to how he does the dishes, there’s even a method to how he brushes his teeth.

That’s not to say he plans everything, because he doesn’t. But there’s some things, small, certain, things, that he plans dutifully.

Part of living with Barney, he’s realized, is having his routines absolutely demolished. 

The milk is on the shelf instead of in the door of the fridge, the dishes are set in the cupboards slightly damp instead of completely dry, and 99% of the time he doesn’t even get to brush his teeth as thoroughly as he’d like because Barney’s lips on his neck prove to be intensely distracting. 

And truly, that 1% that Barney isn’t distracting Lee with his lips, he’s distracting Lee anyway because he’s in a coma or something.

The worst part, Lee thinks, to having his routines routinely screwed up, is that he doesn't seem to mind.

Not one bit.

It’s odd because he can remember snapping at his fellow soldiers whenever they messed him up. And he still bites Gunner’s head of any time the man is anywhere _near_ his fridge.

With Barney though, any real agitation or anger he could have at the man, in this regard, just falls away. Slips through his fingers like water, as though he never had a real grasp on it in the first place.

Truthfully, with Barney, Lee’s not so sure he has a firm grasp on anything.

Not anything but Barney himself. 

That's how he feels at least, every morning he tries to slip out from under the covers and Barney pulls him back in.

“Barn, let go. _Work.”_

“Call in sick.”

“I can’t, we’ve got that mission in Belarus.”

Barney groans, loud and long-suffering though he keeps his nose pressed to Lee’s back, his lips leaving fluttering kisses. “Your boss is such an ass.”

“Yes, you are. Now let go, Gunner’s swinging by with the truck.” Lee starts to roll for the edge, but Barney’s leg hooks in his, keeps him in place as an arm winds over his shoulder and tugs him back. 

Barney rolls onto him then, keeps him pinned in place with his weight even as he sucks a vibrant bruise on the side of Lee’s neck. “We’ve got a little time.”

“Not really, no.”

“I say we have a little time. And I say we change the takeoff time to an hour later. Because, as your boss, I’m pretty sure I can do that.”

“An hour later? Wow, you really think you’re gonna need all that time?”

“Eh, I’m going for a record.”

“What about Gunner?” Lee asks, though truthfully, he doesn't give a damn about Gunner. Or really much of anything other than making Barney achieve his goal. 

“Fuck Gunner.”

“I hope you’re not serious about that, because, just, no.”


	13. Day 28: Doing Something Ridiculous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skippin' to day 28. *shrug*

He heard Lee get up, the springs in the bed creaking loudly as he moved, and then the soft padding of his feet on the hardwood floor. 

“Did I wake you?” Barney asked, keeping his voice soft because he knew how Lee was after waking up. 

“Was cold,” Lee mumbles, sitting down at the table and putting his head down on one arm, the other stretch out on the table before him. 

Barney chuckled, grabbing the milk out of the fridge and pouring it into a bowl before setting it on the floor. Then he walked over to Lee, setting his hands on the man’s shoulder and rubbing out the tension. 

He leaned down, pressing a light kiss to Lee’s temple. “Sorry, had to do something.”

“Yeah? What was so important?” Lee looked up, letting his chin rest on his hand. He stared out at the tabletop, taking long slow blinks.

“Feeding the cat.”

_“What?”_

Lee almost jumped up but Barney kept him still, kept him relaxed.

“Yeah, while you were gone a cat popped up.”

“One of the guy’s?”

Barney pursed his lips, smoothing his thumb across the back of Lee’s neck. “I don’t know. He just kind of showed up.”

“I don’t want a fucking cat.”

“Oh come on, they’re not that bad.”

“I don’t want a cat, Barney.”

Barney frowned, Lee’s voice was so serious. Too serious for this time of night. “Alright, I’ll take care of it. You should go back to bed.” 

Barney pulled away, Lee’s hand clinging to his wrist.

“Come with. Fuck the cat.”

xxxx

The thing was, Barney never got rid of the cat.

It’s not like he didn’t _try._ He did, but he’s never actually _seen_ the cat and it is unimaginably hard to get rid of something he’s never actually seen.

All he knows is, it’s in the house. _Somewhere._ That's evidence by the fact that there’s cat hair all over his sofa and that he’s seen the tail end of a bushy tail every now and then. Plus, someone’s been drinking the milk he puts out in the bowels and he’s pretty sure, after the last time, it’s not Caesar.

Still he’s never seen the cat, so he’s ignored it, put it toward the back of his mind and hoped that Lee wouldn’t bring it up again. Which worked great, for awhile. Until now.

Lee’s on top of him, his ass round and firm in Barney’s hands as they move together, grinding hard and fast and he can tell Lee’s close. The stream of fuck’s and Barney’s coming out of his mouth is enough of a give away. 

And he’s close too, so fucking close and the noises coming out of his mouth are just—

And then Lee leans down, kisses him wet and sloppy and pulls away only to cry out, voice sharp and shrill and everything stops as he fall forward, breathing hard. 

At first, it doesn’t register, none of it. All Barney got was something akin to ice water dumped on him because that noise? Definitely not a ‘fuck, Barney I’m coming’ Lee noise.

Lee’s breathing into his neck, cursing under his breath and Barney now has a good view of Lee’s back. Or rather, what’s _on_ Lee’s back. 

“Oh fuck, Lee? Lee, are you okay?” 

“Get it off, Barney. Get it off so I can skin it alive!”

And he’s already moving, or at least trying to, but Lee’s fucking heavy and the cat has his claws dug in deep on Lee’s back and Barney can already hear the guys on the floor below moving around, and he really doesn’t want them all getting a gander at Lee’s ass.

“Barney. _Barney.”_ And there’s panic slipping in with that rage of Lee’s voice and Barney shares it but he doesn't know what the fuck to do and then it gets worse. 

A million times worse.

Through the door they left open (Barney _knew_ they should have locked it) comes Galgo, skidding to a stop with a panicked face to match Lee’s panicked voice. 

“Oh! I am so sorry. So sorry. I was- the cat- and. I am so sorry. I will leave. I am going.”

“Galgo!” Galgo turns before he’s even a full step out the door and he looks at Barney and Lee before turning away and looking at everything else in the room. And then the ceiling. And then he’s closing his eyes and saying something in Spanish as he leans in and out of the doorway.

“Get the cat, Galgo. Get the cat.”

“Okay. Yes. Okay.” Galgo walks into the room, eyes closed before nearly tripping and instead opening them. Barney will give him points for managing to just look directly at the cat and nothing else as he makes his way to the bed, grabs the cat and _rips_ it away.

Lee damn near screams but Galgo gets the cat in his arms and Barney just keeps Lee close and tries to put it together in his head.

“I’m so sorry,” Galgo says again. “It won't happen again. Promise. I- I will get a cat cage, those things with the bars for the door- I will-”

“Just get out, Galgo. _Please.”_ Barney will beg, if he has to. He can feel the tension in Lee’s shoulders, in his whole body really, and if the red on the back of his neck is any indication, _he’s pissed._

Galgo starts to go, makes it the whole way to the door and then turns around. “You really should close the door, yes?”

_“Get out Galgo!” ___

__xxx_ _

__They’re in the kitchen later, Lee sitting on the counter as Barney tends to the gouges in his back. In the next room over the guys are roaring with laughter, not doubt at the now infamous cat story, and Barney finds himself talking non-stop hoping Lee will focus on him instead of all the laughter at his expense._ _

__“I’m sorry, by the way. I never found the cat so I thought he left and-”_ _

__“You were wrong.”_ _

__“Yes. Obviously. But, really I’m sorry. Don’t skin Galgo alive, okay?”_ _

__“No, I’m gonna skin the cat. But I’ll kill it first. And then I’ll _beat_ Galgo to death.”_ _

__“And I really rather you not do either of those things.”_ _

__“Well, I really rather not have some cat try to skin _me_ while _we’re fucking.”__ _

___“I’m not happy about it either.”_ _ _

___“You don’t seem to upset.”_ _ _

___“Well, honestly, I’ve seen too much shit to get pissy over a cat, Christmas.”_ _ _

___“It wasn’t on _your_ back.”_ _ _

___“True. But, still. It’s just a cat.”_ _ _

___“A cat that needs to leave.”_ _ _

___“Oh come on Lee, let him keep it.”_ _ _

___“Let him keep it? After that?”_ _ _

___“He swears it was a one time thing. He’ll make sure it never happens again. Come on. I know you’re just pissy because you're frustrated. You love animals. I can’t make him throw the cat out. I mean, have you seen Galgo and the cat? It’s fucking adorable, Lee. It really is.”_ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably number 84,000 in the list of stupid fic ideas I've had today. But this one, this one is really about Galgo because I've just come to the realization that I am crushing _hard_ on Antonio Banderas. i mean, just look at [this guy.](http://cdn01.cdn.justjared.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/hayek-cats/salma-hayek-puss-in-boots-premiere-06.jpg) [And this.](http://cdn01.cdn.justjared.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/hayek-cats/salma-hayek-puss-in-boots-premiere-11.jpg) [And this.](http://cdn.hitfix.com/photos/904503/Antonio-Banderas-and-his-feline-lady-friends_gallery_primary.jpg)


	14. Day 29: Doing Something Sweet (Or, New Boots)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written because I had the genius idea of walking around for hours in dress boots and essentially rubbing my skin off and I didn't have anyone to massage the pain away- the lonely life I lead. Though, raw skin probably isn't ideal for massages.

“You need new boots.”

Lee looked down at him from under his arm, eyes glinting in the shade that the arm provided. Barney could tell he was struggling between glaring and looking appreciative. Though, the groan that came out of his throat as Barney’s thumb worked at the center of Lee’s foot was enough to tell him Lee was appreciative.

“I’m not kidding Christmas, it’s time for a new pair.”

“The pair I have is just fine. If the bastards hadn’t blown up the fucking _truck_ then my feet wouldn’t hurt like bloody hell from hiking 25 miles on a fucking mountain.”

“You did more on Endurance.”

“And it fucking _sucked._ I don’t want to do it again.”

Barney smiled, switching to Lee’s other foot. “Even so, new boots Lee. Yours are full of holes and are too small anyway. I don’t know why you wear them.”

“I don’t want new boots.”

“I’m just saying. Maybe tomorrow, we’ll go out and-”

“ _Barney._ I don’t want new boots. I like mine just fine. Now will you _please_ shut up about it and get your ass up here?”

Lee looked almost pleading and even though Barney was willingly giving a massage, he rather be looking at Lee’s face than his feet. So he shrugged, a silent agreement to let it go.  
At least for a minute.

So Barney crawled his way up the bed, laying down beside Lee and letting the Brit thread his fingers in Barney’s hair, kissing him softly. 

“They still hurt?”

“Like a mother fucker.”

“Well, I didn’t say I was good at it.”

xxx

He bought new boots anyway.

Barney didn’t tell Lee he was doing it but he wasn’t about to expect Lee to do it _himself_ so-

New boots.

And he left them in the usual place of the old boots in Lee’s closet, _their_ closet really. Most of it is probably Lee’s anyway but Barney’s pretty sure at least 50% of that was appropriated from _his_ personal closet at the old place. 

Knowing Lee, Barney shouldn’t have been surprised when, waiting on the plane for everyone before taking off, Lee came with the old boots on. 

He knew Lee wasn’t wearing the new ones the moment he checked the closet this morning, to get his coat, and saw they were still there, on the floor. So he took them and waited on the plane for Lee to show up so he could put the damn boots on himself.

Still, having the boots in his hand he was still surprised to see the old boots, like the reality of Lee’s stubbornness just occurred to him.

“Why?” He said, “Why do I do nice things like buy you new boots if you’re just going to blatantly ignore them?”

“I don’t know. Don’t ask me to psychoanalyze you Barney, that’s not exactly my idea of a good time.”

Barney scoffed. He's not really sure that was _anyone’s_ idea of a good time. He’d probably drive therapists to start analyzing each other. “Change the boots.”

“No.”

“Lee.”

“Still no.”

“Please?’

“No.”

“Is that the only word you know?”

Lee shrugged, settling down across from Barney. “Why are you so adamant about me changing my boots?”

“Because it pains me to see you walk around in a shitty pair that cause _you_ pain. And not in some emphatic way either. It literally bothers me Lee, when you’re not happy. When you’re uncomfortable.”

“Maybe we should get new jobs then because there’s not much that’s particularly _comfortable_ about our professions.”

“True...”

“You wanna know why I won’t stop wearing them?” Lee said suddenly, and the teasing tone he had minute ago was gone.

“You mean, other than being stubborn?”

“Because they’re _yours.”_

“Uh...what?”

“You gave ‘em to me a few years back, Mongolia.”

“Because yours had that hole that let in all the sand,” Barney replied, remembering.

“Yeah, you were so damn insistent.”

“Alright, still, I don't get it I mean-”

“Because they’re yours, you moron. You know how many memories you’ve had with these boots? That I’ve had? That _we’ve_ had? I can’t just throw ‘em away. They’re like...”

“Pieces of us.”

“Yeah,” Lee mumbled, ducking his head a little as he rubbed at the back of his neck. “I mean, it sounds stupid, I know. But...”

“I get it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Barney leaned down, unlacing the pair of boots he was wearing. They weren’t brand new but they were still in good condition, hadn’t been weathered by the years. He tossed them to Lee. “Take those, I’ll wear these.” He started lacing up the pair he just bought.

“But-”

“Keep the old ones in a box or something, whatever you want, but you know, make new memories, alright? New memories that don’t involve blistering feet.”


End file.
